


Missing You

by mcmachine



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: Epiphanies, Exes, F/M, Fluff, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 03:09:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13355241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcmachine/pseuds/mcmachine
Summary: At her apartment.... April shut herself off from Jackson months ago, and he misses her more than he ever thought. Watching his ex-wife sing their baby to sleep, he begins to realize things. Two parts. Originally posted on tumblr.





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a bit of an older fic, written sometime before season 13 aired under the assumption that April was going to live in her own place from the beginning. There are a few tiny edits from its original posting on tumblr.

It’s been three months since Harriet's birth. A few months of going back and forth with the baby, a month and a half of moments they’d both missed. They switched off on Wednesdays and Saturdays – April insisted on having her on Sundays, and Jackson hadn’t had a problem with obliging. The baby wouldn’t remember church as an infant.

Jackson’s surgery had gone long on this particular Wednesday, and he knew that April still had the baby. Once he’d finished up the surgery with a certain finesse that only a true plastic surgeon could master, he’d been quick to change out of scrubs and into jeans and a shirt without noticing the spit-up stain on it. His work was idealistic, (somewhat) predictably perfect and his home life was the exact opposite, juxtaposed to highlight and exaggerate the differences and changes that he’d been forced to master with co-parenting.

By the time he’s made his way from the hospital and to their formerly shared apartment, it’s nearly eight, and while that’s not exactly late for him, he knows that means he’s more or less missed his time with the child for today. Harriet would need to be put down if she wasn't already.

Unlocking the door to the apartment, he’s met with the sounds of a soft, familiar voice.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are gray.”

The familiar melody leaves April’s lips warmly and meets Jackson’s ears like an old friend. Carefully, he sets down his bag by the door, deciding against announcing his presence and walking across the house to peek into the doorway of the nursery.

Imperfect, tired red curls are the first thing he sees. April’s back is to him, not noticing his presence with the baby cradled lovingly in her arms, weight shifting between her feet slowly as she gave the baby a small bounce. He pauses to take in the sight, admiring it. She’d always been beautiful, exceptionally so, all milky smooth skin and soft curves meant to be held tenderly and lovingly. She was a natural at motherhood, now that she’d been given the proper chance. Warm and caring, empathetic and attentive, sensitive and protective. Every quality that a mother was meant to have, she’d always kept close to her heart.

His heart swells as he reflects on her fondly. The traits were something that he’d been admiring from afar – not entirely from his own choice, either. Though his smiles and actions around her were more genuine now than they had been when he first found out about the baby, he could still read her: she was distant, guarded. Nearly scared to show any real emotion. And he doesn’t know whether to blame himself or not.

But it hits him. Jackson realizes that he misses the ways her eyes crinkle when she smiles so wide it lights up the room, the curl of her nose when she laughs, the way that she bites into her lower lip when she’s feeling saucy. And he misses the little fights about throw pillows, the ease it takes to light her up with fortune cookies, and the grateful way that she smiles when he waited for her to finish praying before they shared a meal together.

He misses her.

Before Jackson can say a word about it, April happens to turn around with the motion of rocking their child, and she barely jumps when she sees him standing in the doorway. She doesn’t look unhappy necessarily, but she’s not smiling. It bugs him.

“Oh! You scared me, sorry. Hey. I would’ve kept the little nugget up longer if I’d known that you were about to get home, sorry.” April apologizes quickly, and with the words, she does offer a smile, but it’s forced and awkward and he can see right through it.

“Don’t worry about it.” Jackson’s smile, however, is entirely authentic.


	2. Part 2

“Sorry I got here so late.” Then again, it's hardly considered late for either surgeon, but they’ve both felt the effects of new parenthood. Even if they hate being referred to as new parents after Samuel, this is different. Even though they would have given up anything to have this with their little boy, they hadn't dealt with. It was exhausting, even when they went back and forth. Sometimes the worry and anxiety of not being under the same roof as their baby kept them awake at night more than Harriet actually crying.

“Don’t worry about it, Jackson, really. I get it. Besides, it’s not like I’m going to say no to spending more time with the baby.” April’s words have the slightest bit of bitterness in it, at the fact that she doesn’t already spend every night she has with her child, that there were so many small things she missed, so many bigger things they both risked missing – the first time rolling over, sitting up, talking, walking… The list went on and on. It was something they both thought about, but neither was willing to approach it with the other. 

“Was everything good tonight?”

“Yeah.”

The short, tense words are enough to keep him bugged by her attitude. It’s not like he’s been unaware of the distance until this moment, but this is the first time it’s really gotten to him. Maybe it was seeing her so affectionate with her child, the light in her eyes when she looked down at the infant, and the similarities that he could pick between mother and child – the same nose, the same smile. Or maybe it was the way that the genuine, heartfelt emotions in her face seemed to drift in the short moment it took to look up from the baby, and at him. Yeah, that was probably it.

“Do you want–?” April doesn’t need to finish the question, eyebrows raising. Jackson nods his head quickly and steps forward to close the distance between them. The baby is passed over smoothly, but they barely touch each other. It’s a well-practiced motion.

“Thanks.” His gaze is loving and paternal on the child for a moment, giving a glance back up at his redheaded ex-wife. His gaze, however, doesn’t lose the love or affection. 

April’s not blind, not by any means, and it feels like it’s been like this for awhile. He’s seemed relaxed ever since she’d let him feel their child moving within her. Always genuine in showing his emotion, unafraid to be shown. There’s a momentary smile on her face, more of an awkward twitch than a proper expression. It’s continued to make her uncomfortable because she doesn’t know how to interpret his emotion. She blames it on the baby more than anything else. It’d fade, she’d convinced herself of that. He was so in love with what they’d created, and projecting it out on those around them. There were worse emotions to project, she knew that, but this is the hardest to handle she thinks.

“When did you last feed her?” Jackson inquires after a moment, disliking the silence between them. He could’ve left and gone home for the night, but he wanted to see some semblance of the best friends they’d been what seemed like so long ago.

“About an hour ago.” She pauses, wetting her lips. “There’s more milk in the fridge if you need it. I mean, I’ll bring some tomorrow night, but…” It’s her quiet way of being somewhat insistent about breastfeeding, but she knows that it’s not entirely possible. Consistency was seemingly the last possible thing between the two of them now.

“Yeah, sure. Thanks. Will you stick it in my bag?” His thoughts are wondering for something else between them, watching April as she nods. Jackson turns and his gaze remains on her as she moves across what used to be their apartment, bending over as she reaches into the fridge and grabbing it, before moving toward the door, squatting down, and placing it in his bag. When she straights back up, she’s holding it up by the shoulder strap.

There’s a long, silent moment between the both of them. Jackson knows what she’s saying.

“Thanks.” Jackson doesn’t move back across the apartment all the way, only taking a few steps toward her and leaning slightly against the back of the couch. He glances back down at their peacefully sleeping child, wishing for a moment that he knew how nice it would be to be oblivious to the tension between them. He wants it to end, but he doesn’t know how. An apology doesn’t fix it – he’d made her bend and break her own orthodox when he’d criticized her for just attempting to make him do the same. Not to mention that he’d broken her heart. His own had been broken for a while after she’d left to Jordan twice, but she could’ve fixed it. He’d cut off her opportunity. And now, he couldn’t do a thing to help hers.

“I uh, I’ve got an early shift tomorrow, so…” Her voice trails off, lips pressing together in a tight line and looking down and away from again. She wants to go to bed, and can already feel herself crying herself to sleep. The first night Jackson takes her is always the worst.

Jackson’s out of excuses to try and stay a little longer. The obvious questions have already been asked. Instead of saying anything more, he swallows his pride and nods, moving back across the apartment and toward the door. He takes his bag from her with a brief smile, stepping close enough to give her a moment to say bye to the baby.

April steps in close enough that he can smell the faint remnants of her shampoo from her morning shower, and he glances up and away for a brief moment. She kisses the growing child on the head and murmurs an affection ‘goodbye' and ‘I love you' and ‘see you soon sweetie'.

“Yeah, you too.” Jackson replies, meaning a little more than just see you soon, and giving her a long look before he grabs the door and leaves her alone for the rest of the night.


End file.
